


home

by gumsparkle (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, you know when they are each other's home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27097861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gumsparkle
Summary: Atsumu isn’t sure when walking through a stretch of rice fields, damp earth muddying his soles, and the sound of laughter a short distance away as he almost slips on a patch of green stalks starts feeling so much like coming home.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 20
Kudos: 112





	home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devote/gifts).



> this one's for u ange, happy bday <3 srry for being cheesy as fuck

Atsumu isn’t sure when walking through a stretch of rice fields, damp earth muddying his soles, and the sound of laughter a short distance away as he almost slips on a patch of green stalks starts feeling so much like coming home. 

But if he looks back through his file of stored memories filled with squeaky hardwood gym floors, red-rimmed eyes from loss, and him telling Shinsuke that he’ll make him proud, it doesn’t start with rice fields at all. 

It starts with Shinsuke’s warm palms cupping his face after their last practice, gym silent except for their mismatched breaths and the rapid-fire beating of his heart, nearly breaking his ribcage when their lips meet for the first time. And Shinsuke kissing him to a standstill. The red-haze of Atsumu’s blind hunger calming for the brevity of it, fading to a tame-green and newfound-gold. Sweet. Steady. Shinsuke, smiling against his mouth. Sweet, steady, Shinsuke whispering that he’s leaving soon, but this doesn’t mean _the end_. It just means, now, _I can be home too_. 

❀

Shinsuke graduates and Atsumu brings him flowers, bright yellow daffodils, and pure white daisies wrapped in obnoxious heart-decorated florist wrap with a Congratulations balloon sticking out. Osamu had snickered at him then, pointing out how soft he’s being, what happened to all of his pent-up, boyish anger? He tells Atsumu he should’ve known Shinsuke melted him like he’s butter the minute he saw a plastic bag filled with _umeboshi_ and cough drops and lemon-flavored water cradled in his arms, note attached ending with a sincerely, 

Kita. 

He meets him after the ceremony where Atsumu is waiting by the brick entrance, drawing impatient circles into the dirt with his shoe, the film of the bouquet clenched tightly in an uncertainty he’s never faced after his years of simply facing things head-on. When faced, in the form of Shinsuke wearing a well-fitted, wrinkle-free blazer, smile tugging at the corner of his lips, it’s beautiful. The uncertainty of their diverging paths, conflicting timelines. The uncertainty of Shinsuke standing in front of him, not giving him another kiss but hesitantly reaching for his hand, lacing them together and teasingly asking if the flowers are for him. 

They hold hands on the walk home, quiet. Atsumu looks at him and sees bright-boy, boy-who-cries-sometimes, boy-who-does-what-needs-to-be-done, but most of all, he sees a boy he wants to love wholly. 

_Everything, I’ll give you everything. The boy I know, the boy I have yet to learn, and the boy you will become. I’ll give you everything gold. Rusted-over or gleaming, I’ll give you everything._

❀

  
  


He joins the MSBY Black Jackals fresh out of high school. And Osaka isn’t a home; he thinks of it as the blank, empty gap between his home back in Hyōgo, where Osamu stayed, where Kita Shinsuke stayed. The home he left behind all because he doesn’t know how to do anything else but chase after a hunger left unsated. 

See, the thing about being in love with Kita Shinsuke, an hour away on the Hanshin Namba line, is that he wants more of something that distance and busy schedules can’t give. Often he craves touch, tug, teeth. He wants Shinsuke close, close, _closer_. 

His carnality comes back to him in overwhelming flashes of red, presenting itself as Sakusa telling him to calm down his tosses, they’re too-high, too-rushed, too-much and the coach pulling him to the side to ask him what’s going on. Nothing is his response. He’s himself, the all-bark boy who knows no gentleness, only hunger and the taste of blood in his mouth and how to _want—_

_“I watched your game last night.”_

Shinsuke’s voice is a blinding white static through the phone, a reminder. The Jackals had lost that game. It wasn’t Atsumu’s fault entirely, but he couldn’t get into the rhythm, resulting in multiple lost points that make him slam his locker a little too hard when he’s finished changing from his sweat-stained uniform. 

_“I know you can give me more than that,”_ Shinsuke says, teasing. Atsumu can hear the slant of his expression twisting into a grin. _“I know that wasn’t the Atsumu who promised me he’d be my best junior.”_

“Sorry.” 

_“Don’t be sorry. Win next time, so I can brag to the ladies down at the Farmer’s Market about how my boyfriend is practically unstoppable, yeah?”_ He laughs through the line, rough and soft at once. 

“Yeah.”

I’ll be someone you can proudly love _,_ he doesn’t say. Atsumu knows what Shinsuke would say back. That he’s already proud. That he’s been proud of him from the start. It makes Atsumu throw his phone onto his bed and slap his hands over his cheeks. 

_I’ll be someone you can continue being proud of._

❀

  
  


In his third-year, Atsumu visits Shinsuke’s farm for the first time after exam season is over. 

He’d have visited sooner, but Shinsuke tells him no, that he’ll only kiss him again if he gets good grades and passes all of his tests. That gets him studying, and soon he’s on the train headed to the address Shinsuke had texted him. Train rides have never nauseated him before, but they did at that moment, and he probably should’ve brought a bag. He doesn’t hurl, but he wants to. It dissipates when he looks outside to the rolling hills of vibrant green, sits back in his seat, and tells himself that he’s going to call Shinsuke, _Shin,_ today. 

“Shin,” It’s a confession. He stutters through it, awkward and fidgety, feeling like exposed prey laid out on the checkered picnic blanket Shinsuke had brought out for them to lay on the hill to the side of his small house that he’s told to make himself at home in. There’s blackberry juice leftover from Shinsuke popping them into his mouth, a sticky deep-red on the corners that he doesn’t bother wiping away. Not when the taste is bittersweet on his tongue, and Shinsuke is still looking at him like he loves him in every way. “I miss you. I’ll miss you.” 

“I get lonely sometimes too. I miss you all the time, too,” Shinsuke responds, rolling around to prop himself up and gently hold Atsumu’s jaw, sighing and leaning into him with grace. 

_“Shin.”_

“But.” He kisses him again. “I’m.” Again. “Right.” A final time, jabbing a hand at his chest, hard, and felt. 

“Here.” 

❀

Eventually, Osaka becomes home. Tokyo (still months away), too, when Shinsuke calls and talks at a rapid-speed he’s never heard from him before after Atsumu had sent him a text confirming he had made it on the national team lineup. 

He visits unannounced one day when the Jackals are playing in the semi-finals of a tournament. Atsumu nearly flubs a serve when he turns his head slightly to see familiar smiling eyes, glinting and quirking a brow. Shinsuke is there, in the flesh, wearing one of Atsumu’s hoodies with his number on it that he left during his last visit. 

And sometime between the warm smile Shinsuke gives him from the stands and the seconds leading up to the set-point serve, the court softens under him. Stadium floors become an easy green, padded with soil and rice stalks, subdued under golden sunrises like the ones he watches slowly peek through the curtains with Shinsuke’s body sound-asleep next to him. 

_So, this is home. You are home._

The Jackals win, and Atsumu comes home. He makes his way to the stands after his service ace, dizzy with the widest smile stupid across his face, and throws his head back in laughter when he spots the bouquet on Shinsuke’s seat. Daffodils & daises. This time it's Atsumu who takes Shinsuke’s face in his hands, glittering forehead pressed to his, muttering a succession of _iloveyou’s_ before he’s even thought about celebrating his win, and kissing the boy tender with his own promise: _I’ll be home to you, too._

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is based on [this](https://www.badponymag.com/poetry6/2019/11/10/azia-archer) poem!


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